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Class_ E13_ 

Book S' 5“(a 


PRESENTED BY 














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PAUL IN PICTURE LAND 



Paul knelt down and put his hands together. 
Frontispiece. See page 55. 

































Paul in Picture 

Land 

BY 

RICHARD A. CLARKE 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
CLARA ATWOOD FITTS 


W ON-REFEk T 



cqWVAO - CIS 


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1 > J 


BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 

1923 












ysny 



Copyright, 1923, 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 


All rights reserved 

Published November, 1923 


GsFT 


PUBLISHER 

*•! ■ 


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA 


DEC-4’23 



Inscribed to 
Dick Jr’s 
Aunt 
and 

Grandmother 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I 

The Fairy’s Gifts .... 

PAGE 

3 

II 

Paul Goes to a Party . 

14 

III 

Humpty Dumpty’s New Home 

28 

IV 

The Magic Candle .... 

41 

V 

The Crown that Jack Broke . 

5 i 

VI 

Mother Hubbard’s Hungry 
Dog ....... 

61 

VII 

Little Miss Muffet Runs Away 

7 1 

VIII 

Simon’s Lively Whale . 

81 

IX 

Mary’s Lamb in School 

92 

X 

The Shoe-Home .... 

104 

XI 

Cinderella’s Slippers . 

117 

XII 

The Tick Tock Daisies . 

123 

XIII 

Paul Meets the Fairy Again . 

134 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


Paul knelt down and put his hands to¬ 
gether . Frontispiece 

PAGE 

They broke their painted toys ... 5 

“A present for you, my dear,” the lady 
said, dropping the package into 
Paul’s hands. facing 8 

The cat began to play the fiddle . . . 17 

“Where am IT .19 

Paul began bouncing his ball . • 33 

His candlestick and candle had been given 

him by his old, ancient uncle . . 45 

Right at once Santa dropped the boy’s 

hand.53 

The dog snatched a white checker . . 65 

He ran helter-skelter after the girl . . 77 

“Once on a time,” said the teacher, “there 
was a cobbler whose heart was the 
soul of an artist” . . . facing 94 

“You have turned to stone ” .... 99 




ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGT3 

“My name is Mr. Fourteen-Feet-and-six- 

inches”.ill 

The prince said to Paul, “You are stand¬ 
ing where she should be standing . 

facing 120 

The Queen whispered to the King . -135 

Soon the lady returned with the wizard . 141 


PAUL IN PICTURE LAND 







CHAPTER I 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 


A LONG road, that never seemed 
to grow tired of being tramped 
upon, bent over the steep hill 
and slid down, down, down, into the 
city. 

In the city the road dressed itself all 
spic and span in its finest clothes, which 
were round stones that shone like lumps 
of gray silver. Here it passed by the 
fine home of a rich family, and it wished 
to appear wealthy itself. 

And the children of the rich family 
were gaily dressed, like the happy birds 
of the blue seas’ islands. And they 


4 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 


read pretty story books, and played tag 
and hide-and-seek, London Bridge is 
falling down, and they broke their 
painted toys, and made saucy noses at 
their nurses. 

After passing through the city, the 
long road came to a village of willow 
trees, and it whispered to itself, “Here 
is a fine place to take off my fancy 
clothes. The pretty home of the rich 
family has been passed, and now my 
suit of brown dirt is plenty good 
enough.” So the road jumped out of 
its gay things and hopped into its well- 
worn brown dirt things. 

And then it strolled on and soon 
came to the tumble-down hovel where 
Paul lived. Paul was a lonesome boy. 
He was lonesome this day and that day 
and every day, because the children of 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 


5 


the rich family never came to play with 
him; and he had no painted toys to 



They broke their painted toys 


break, nor nurses to crinkle his nose at. 
He had nothing at all in the whole wide 
world except a cross stepmother and a 
crosser still stepfather, and himself. 

















6 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 


One day a lady walked down the 
long road. She was tiny and more 
wrinkled than the prunes sold in a gro¬ 
cery shop. And as she trod over the 
stones that shone like gray silver, she 
nodded her head to the left and to the 
right. She nodded merrily and her hat 
plumes waved like roosters’ tails in the 
wind. 

She said to the children of the rich 
family, “Pretty dears, how are you this 
day?” 

Rut the children did not answer 
her. The only return she got for 
the pains of her good greetings was 
empty stares from haughty eyes. And 
then she would cry, “Weeds, weeds, 
weeds!” 

She came at last to Paul’s tumble- 
down home. She nodded her head to 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 


7 

Paul and said, “Pretty dear, how are 
you this day?” 

And Paul smiled sweetly because he 
had never been spoiled, and the lady 
stood still and murmured, “Why, my 
dear, what a pretty flower!” 

The boy smiled again and he looked 
about him, this way and that, and 
he said wonderingly, “A flower?— 
Where?” 

“A flower in your garden, my dear,” 
the lady answered, nodding and nod¬ 
ding and nodding. 

“My garden?” cried Paul, and then 
he said honestly, “But I have no gar¬ 
den, if you please, ma’am.” 

The odd-looking lady laughed. 

“Ho, ho!” she chuckled, wrinkling 
her nose comically, “when you smile 
your face is your garden. Smiles are 


8 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 


the prettiest flowers in all the wide, cold 
world. And when your face blooms 
with one, isn’t it a garden?” 

And the pleased boy whispered, “Is 
it?” 

“Yes, yes!” the tiny lady declared. 
And then she added with a sigh, “But 
should you twist your face into a frown, 
and look unhappy, or look unfriendly, 
then weeds grow there.” 

Thereupon she patted Paul’s cheek 
and passed on her way. She walked 
fast, as though she wished to catch up 
with the distant horizon, and where she 
went to I do not know. But the next 
evening, at sunset, she again came down 
the long road. And as she trod over 
the stones that shone like gray silver 
she nodded right and left and waved 
aloft a package. 



“A present for you, my dear,” the lady said, drop¬ 
ping the package into Paul’s hands. Page p. 




























































THE FAIRY'S GIFTS 


9 

“See what I have!” she cried. “A 
present for some one, a pretty present!” 

And each spoiled child of the rich 
family that saw the package, smiled 
sweetly and cried, “Good evening, good 
evening, good evening , ma'am!” 

But the lady only tossed her head 
and shrugged her shoulders. And she 
whispered to herself, “These smiles are 
not true flowers.” 

So she kept on moving, and when she 
came to Paul’s tumble-down home she 
held the package behind her so that it 
was hidden. She nodded to the lone¬ 
some boy, and the smile that bloomed 
in his face glowed like a golden daisy. 

“A present for you, my dear,” the 
lady said, dropping the package into 
Paul’s hands. And in the flash of an 
eye she was hastening along the dusty 


10 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 


brown road without waiting to be 
thanked. She passed from sight al¬ 
most as quickly as a shadow entering a 
dark cave. 

Paul’s step-parents ran to him crying 
excitedly, “Open the package, open the 
package child! Maybe ’tis a box of 
money!” and the stepmother snatched 
the package from the boy’s hands and 
tore the paper covering away, and 
found,—a book and a black rubber ball. 

“Bah!” grumbled the stepmother, “a 
silly rubber ball, which will buy noth¬ 
ing!” 

“Poof!” snorted the stepfather, “a 
foolish book, which will buy less than 
nothing!” 

And they walked away, comforting 
each other with growls. 

Paul gazed long at the brightly col- 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS n 

ored cover of the book and at the glossy 
ball. The book was filled with pic¬ 
tures, and the ball would bounce, oh, 
so high! One of the pictures in the 
book was a cow jumping over the moon, 
watched by a fiddling cat and a laugh¬ 
ing dog and a dish and spoon. And 
another picture showed an egg that had 
tumbled from a high wall; and another 
picture was of a boy named Jack and 
a girl named Jill falling down a hill; 
and another picture showed—oh, well, 
I shall not stop to tell you. But there 
were many, many pictures, and there 
were stories printed about them. The 
stories told Paul nothing, for he could 
not read, as he had never gone to school. 

The lonesome little boy looked at 
the pictures, over and over again, and 
I guess the picture of the moon jump- 



12 THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 

ing over the cow—I mean the cow 
jumping over the moon—pleased him 
the most. He looked at that picture 
ten times; while he looked at the other 
pictures no more than four or five times. 

After a while Paul heard his step¬ 
father’s voice calling him: 

“Come into the house and eat your 
supper of peas and porridge and put on 
your nightie and hop off to bed— 
hurry!” So the child hastened in¬ 
doors, was fed, and sent to bed. 

But he carried his precious book and 
his glossy rubber ball along. 

In bed, with the rubber ball safe in 
the breast pocket of his nightie and his 
cheek pressing against his book, he fell 
to thinking. 

These were his thoughts: 

“What a fine cow is in my book and 


THE FAIRY’S GIFTS 13 

what a wonderful jumper she must be. 
And the laughing dog, I love him; and 
I love the fiddling cat—hi, ho, hum!— 
and I love the dish and spoon—how 
sleepy I am! 

“I wish I were living in this picture. 
I wish I were a picture boy instead of a 
real boy. Then maybe I would not be 
so lonesome. Hi, ho, hum!—I wish I 
were living in the picture—in the pic¬ 
ture— Hi-ho-hum-m-m!” 

And Paul fell asleep, smiling. 


CHAPTER II 


PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 


7 HY > m y dear, what a pretty 

Y Y flower!” purred a voice that 
sounded as if it could meow. 

“What a pretty flower is growing in 
your garden!” mooed another voice that 
sounded as if it could bellow. 

“ ’Tis like a golden daisy!” barked a 
third voice, that sounded as if it could 
growl. 

And then Paul yawned; and then he 
understood what was being talked 
about, and he smiled happily. He 
said to himself, “The good lady who 
gave me the wonderful book is here, 
and I surely must thank her.” 


PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 15 

Thinking also that he must not for¬ 
get to thank her for the glossy rubber 
ball, he opened his eyes and cried, 
“Thank you, thank you so much, for 
the pictured book and the bouncing 
ball!” 

Then wider and wider he opened his 
eyes, and his surprise grew greater and 
greater. What a strange world he 
found himself in. Over everything 
hung a faint silver mist, and glowing 
through this mist was a huge moon. 
There were bushes and trees and vines 
all dripping with drops of silver dew; 
and there were flowers and golden bees 
and green-spotted butterflies and ruby- 
red bugs. But where was the tiny lady 
of the long road? Where was the 
giver of the gifts? Where she might 
have been standing, had she been pres- 


16 PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 


ent, was a cat. And the cat was wav¬ 
ing a fiddle and bow. And near the 
cat was a cow and near the cow was a 
dog, and near the dog was a dish and 
spoon. 

“Hello, there!” cried the cat, wav¬ 
ing her bow and fiddle, “let me play 
some music for you who have come to 
visit us.” And she tucked the fiddle 
under her furry chin and began to scrape 
a squeaky tune. Then the cow, who 
was gaily spotted, trotted forward 
daintily; she bowed to Paul and said, 
“I shall dance to the charming music 
of the fiddle, and I shall dance high.” 
She began beating time to the tune with 
her tail, and she rolled her brown eyes 
and clicked her two horns together. 
And with each swish of her tail she 
hopped into the air, and with each click 


PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 17 

of her horns she fell back to ground 
again. 



The cat began to play the fiddle 


Swish!—and up she went. Click. 
—and down she came. And up she 





























18 PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 


went again, and again came down. 
The fiddle played louder and louder; 
more and more charming was its mu¬ 
sic, and the golden bees and the 
colored butterflies and bugs darted 
about like lively sparks. And the 
dog barked sharply and the spoon 
clanged against the dish. Oh, such a 
noise! 

The music, the din, and the dancing 
kept on, and rustling breezes crept 
through the trees to view the gay festi¬ 
val. Suddenly the fiddle drew out a long 
chord, and the cow gave a great bound 
and went shooting up, up, UP!—until 
she reached the moon that hung in the 
sky. The moon’s cheeks were glowing 
and her smile was warm, but her teeth 
glistened like cold icicles. Then the 
cat threw aside her bow and fiddle and 



PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 19 

she cried, “There! what do you think of 
that for music!” 

“And what do you think of this for 
dancing"?” bellowed the cow proudly as 



“Where am IT 


she curved over the top of the moon. 

Paul stood quite still and rubbed his 
eyes. “Where am I?” he thought. 
Then he whispered to the cat, “Where 

am I?” 



















20 PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 


“Oh, my!” said the cat. “Don’t 
you know?” 

And the spoon nudged the dish and 
said in a low voice, “Be polite, and tell 
Paul where he is.” 

But before the dish could speak, Paul 
cried, “I know where I am! I am in 
the picture! I was wishing that I 
lived in the picture of the cow jumping 
over the moon, and here I am.” 

At this moment the spotted cow 
dropped to the ground and she mooed 
into Paul’s ear, “Yes, here you are, and 
we will give a grand fine party for you. 
There shall be good things to eat! Oh, 
my! And, what is more, I shall lie 
upon the ground and be the table— 
think of that! And we shall eat from 
plates—my spots shall be the plates.” 

Right there and then the cow flopped 


PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 21 


herself upon the ground, to be the table. 
Rut she jumped up again. 

And the dog asked, 4 'What is 
wrong ?” 

The cow jerked a bent pin out of her 
side, and she said impatiently, "Who 
threw this down there?” 

Then she found another place to lie 
down, and she stretched herself out 
comfortably and murmured, "Now, I 
am the table.” 

The cat and dog and dish and spoon 
hastened away to find the good things 
to eat. Soon the cat came back with 
five mice, and she said, "Here is food 
fit for a king’s breakfast.” 

The dog followed carrying a bone 
in his mouth, and he said, "Here is food 
fit for a king’s dinner.” 

And the dish and spoon brought back 


22 PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 


some snails and they cried, “Here is 
food fit for a king’s supper.” 

And while this was happening, the 
moon that hung in the sky looked down 
and smacked her lips hungrily. Her 
gaze seemed to fall directly upon Paul, 
and the child could not help but shiver. 

When the dainties were about to be 
put upon the table—which was the cow 
—the cat began to laugh. 

“What are you laughing at?” asked 
the cow. 

“At you,” giggled the cat. “You 
are lying upon the plates.” 

“Oh, well, mistakes will happen,” 
grumbled the cow. “I am lying upon 
my plates because I am lying upon my 
right side, and all my spots are on that 
side.” So she turned over, and the 
table was soon set. 


PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 23 

When the dainties were all spread 
out upon the table, the cat waved her 
paw and cried, “All ready—eat!” And 
she immediately began nibbling at the 
food which was fit for a king’s break¬ 
fast. The dog gnawed eagerly at the 
food which was fit for a king’s dinner, 
and the dish and spoon set to work on 
the snail dainties they had brought. 

What a hungry crowd they were— 
all but Paul. They ate and ate until 
everything was gone. And then the 
dog, absent-mindedly, even took a bite 
of the table’s tail, which made the table 
bellow, “Watch what you are about! 
I’m not a mouse.” 

“Excuse me a thousand times,” 
apologized the dog; “I quite forgot my¬ 
self, and thought you were the des¬ 
sert.” 


24 PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 

“Dessert, dessert!” murmured the 
spoon, “ah, yes, surely we must have 
some sweet dessert. A party without 
dessert is like a flower without per¬ 
fume.” And the dish declared, “A 
party without dessert is like—oh, ’tis 
not to be thought of!” The spoon 
rubbed her stomach and looked sad, and 
she gazed greedily at Paul. 

One glance from the spoon was 
enough for the boy. 

He understood! 

He said to himself, “No spoon is go¬ 
ing to eat me for dessert!” Then he 
climbed upon the table, which was the 
cow, and cried to the cat, “Please play 
more of the charming music.” 

The cat, flattered at being asked, be¬ 
gan to play upon her fiddle,—and, oh! 
such a noise! 


PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 25 

And oh, such dancing! The table 
sprang to her feet, with Paul clinging 
to her hairy back, and she began to hop 
up and down, higher and higher with 
each hop. 

“Stop the music! Stop the danc¬ 
ing!” screamed the spoon, eyeing Paul 
greedily and thinking that he must not 
be allowed to escape, as he would make 
such a fine dessert to swallow. 

“Squeak, squeak, squawk!” shrieked 
the fiddle. “Thump, thump, thump!” 
beat the cow’s dancing hoofs upon the 
ground. “Squeak-k-k-k-k-k-k!” went 
the fiddle’s long chord, and up, up, up! 
went the cow, with Paul astride her 
back,—up, up, up! until she curved 
again over the top of the moon. 

And then an unlooked-for thing hap¬ 
pened. The moon cried, “Thank you 


26 PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 

a thousand times for this delicious des¬ 
sert!” and she clutched Paul’s flutter¬ 
ing nightie—the boy was dressed in his 
nightie, of course—between her chilled 
white teeth, and pulled him from the 
cow’s back. The cow turned about fu¬ 
riously, her tail straight in the air, and 
she roared, “How dare you touch my 
little friend!” 

“Yum, yum, yum!” gurgled the 
moon. 

“I shall teach you better manners,” 
the cow declared, and she set upon the 
moon like a flash, and butted into the 
moon’s fat cheek— Bang! 

“Humf-f-f!” gasped the moon, and 
Paul was blown from between her teeth 
as though a cyclone had hit him. He 
flew straight forward with the speed of 
a bullet, and the wind howled in his 


PAUL GOES TO A PARTY 27 

ears. His nightie flapped and flut¬ 
tered like a loose sail, and he was quite 
beside himself with terror. Rut the 
thought of his escape from the dish and 
spoon and dog gave him courage, and 
he looked back. Through the silver 
mist he saw the moon and cow fighting 
most furiously. They were tumbling 
all over the sky, bumping into the 
clouds and tearing them to shreds, and 
biting and yelping and roaring and 
snarling. The boy grew fearful lest 
his good friend, the dancing cow, 
would get the worst of the struggle, and 
he wished he could help her. But soon 
he saw she needed no aid. The moon 
was running away, climbing high into 
the sky. And in another moment the 
moon had disappeared, and all was 
dark as pitch. 


CHAPTER III 


HUMPTY DUMPTY’S NEW 

HOME 

A S Paul whirled through the sky, 
faster than a mile a minute he 
wondered what was to become 
of him. He wondered if he were go¬ 
ing to travel around in a great circle 
and be brought back to the picture of 
the cow jumping over the moon. Or 
maybe he was to keep speeding through 
the sky like a comet—forever and for¬ 
ever. “Oh, dear!” the boy cried, “what 
if I have changed into a comet; I am 
quite sure I feel like one.” And then 
he saw that he was wearing his white 



HUMPTY DUMPTY 


29 

nightie, which set his mind at rest, as 
he knew comets did not dress in such a 
fashion. 

After a while he grew sleepy and he 
whispered, “I guess I shall take a nap.” 
So he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. 
Did he drop into slumber 4 ? That I 
cannot say. But this much I know— 
that he suddenly hit the ground with 
a thump, and when he opened his eyes 
again he was no longer in the sky. He 
was standing near a high stone wall 
that seemed to be miles in length, be¬ 
neath a shady tree, and into his ears 
came the sound of a shrill voice crying, 
“Help, help, help!” 

And as he looked about to see who 
was in trouble, the same voice ex¬ 
claimed, “Well, why don’t you help 
me? Here I am!” 


30 HUMPTY DUMPTY 

Then the boy looked down, and saw 
lying at his feet a broken shell out of 
which an egg had seeped, and the egg 
was all spread flat, as though waiting to 
be fried. The sight caused the tender¬ 
hearted boy to shake his head mourn¬ 
fully and murmur, “Poor thing! Too 
bad—too bad!” 

“Who is too bad—me?” the egg 
screamed angrily. “Indeed I am not 
bad! I am very, very fresh; but, just 
a moment ago I fell from the top of 
the stone wall and now my shell is 
broken, and when an egg’s shell is 
broken its health is ruined— kerchoo /” 

A light dawned upon Paul as the egg 
was speaking, and he rubbed his eyes 
and looked about him in all directions. 
“I know where I am,” he cried. “I am 
in another picture! I am in the pic- 


HUMPTY DUMPTY 


3 1 

ture of the egg that has tumbled from 
the wall.” 

“Of course you are, stupid,” moaned 
the egg, “and a most unhappy picture 
it is—for me.” And the poor thing be¬ 
gan to whimper. 

Then Paul looked worried. “Do 
you ever give parties here?” he asked. 
For he remembered what had happened 
in the other picture. 

“Parties!” the egg screamed. “Me 
give a party! I am not in a humor for 
giving parties,” he snapped. “Right 
now I would not give a party even for 
my mother, the speckled hen, or my 
father, the proud rooster. Didn’t I tell 
you that the fall from the wall has in¬ 
jured my health?—kerchoo!” 

The poor broken egg sneezed and 
coughed and wheezed so hard that Paul 


32 HUMPTY DUMPTY 

thought it best to say no more for 
awhile. So he took the glossy rubber 
ball from the pocket of his nightie— 
he was still wearing his nightie—and 
began bouncing it against the high 
stone wall. 

The egg grew curious and asked, 
“What have you there?” 

“It is a rubber ball,” Paul answered. 

“I never heard of such a thing,” said 
the egg, “but I know what a hole is, and 
I see a round hole in the ball. Please 
tell me what the hole is for.” 

“The best way to tell you is to show 
you,” answered the boy. He squeezed 
the ball until it was flat, and the air 
rushed out through the tiny hole— 
swish-h-h! Then as Paul let the ball 
grow round again, the air drew itself 
back inside—shwee-e-e-e-e! 


HUMPTY DUMPTY 33 


“Ho, ho!” laughed the egg, who was 
very wise. “Push the air out of the 



Paul began bouncing his ball 


ball again, and then hold the round 
hole against my ear, so I can hear the 
air come back in. 55 




















34 HUMPTY DUMPTY 

Paul said, “Oh, certainly; to be 
sure,” and he did exactly as he was told. 
He squeezed the ball until it was flat, 
and then he placed the round hole 
against the broken egg’s yellow ear. 
The egg’s yolk was its yellow ear, of 
course. 

Then Paul let the ball grow round 
again, so the air could squeeze itself 
back inside. 

But the air had no chance to squeeze 
in again. 

Ho, ho! ’Twas the egg that squeezed 
itself into the rubber ball through the 
tiny hole! 

And then what happened? 

Dumbfounded, Paul gazed at the 
ball, and then at the empty egg shell, 
and he wondered if an accident had 
happened, or if the egg had purposely 


HUMPTY DUMPTY 


35 


crawled into the ball. But the egg’s 
voice, coming from inside the ball set¬ 
tled the matter. The egg was saying, 
“Now I am living inside a rubber shell! 
And I would like to see any one break 
this shell and fry me for breakfast! 
Ho, ho, ho!” 

“Sakes alive!” gasped Paul, “did 
you ever hear of the like!” 

“No, you never heard of the like,” 
shouted the egg. “I am the only egg 
in the world with brains enough to do 
so clever a thing.” 

Paul was a very kind-hearted boy, 
so he decided to allow the egg to remain 
inside the ball,—to keep its new shell of 
rubber. He said, “You may live inside 
my nice rubber ball, where you will not 
catch cold. Yes, you may live there, if 
you will let me bounce it once more.” 


36 HUMPTY DUMPTY 

“l feel so much better already,” cried 
the delighted egg, “that I do not think 
the bouncing will hurt me.” 

So the boy threw the ball against the 
ground, and it bounced up, up, up into 
the air. 

“Whee!” crowed the happy egg. 
“Whee! This rubber shell beats any¬ 
thing I have ever heard of! It is the 
very thing an egg needs—a shell that 
bounces instead of breaks.” 

Paul threw the ball against the stone 
wall and it bounded back like a flash, 
and went tumbling over the ground, 
helter-skelter, hither and thither— 
everywhere. And, oh! what a happy 
egg was inside that lively ball! It 
crowed and crowed with glee. It must 
have been a rooster egg, to crow. And 
it was not satisfied with being bounced 


HUMPTY DUMPTY 


37 

once or twice or three times. It would 
give Paul no rest until he had bounced 
the ball at least fifty times. Paul 
bounced the ball against the wall and 
the ground until he thought that the 
egg inside would surely be scrambled. 
But no, the egg was too happy to be 
scrambled, and it kept singing, 

“A wonderful shell have I! 

It bounces , but never breaks!” 

The ball was bounced again and 
again, and the egg inside grew happier 
and noisier, and it screamed and 
shouted and laughed. Then— 
Something happened! 

Suddenly there came a voice in the 
distance, and while the voice was not 

in the picture, still it could be plainly 
heard. The voice was for all the 


38 HUMPTY DUMPTY 

world like a clucking, and the duck¬ 
ings seemed to change into words, and 
these were the words: 

"What means the uproar? I hear 
Humpty Dumpty’s voice! What is 
happening to my precious child, who 
is yet but a tiny baby egg?” 

The egg quickly grew quiet. It 
stopped its gleeful laughter, and it 

whispered, "My mother, the old speck- 

* 

led hen, is coming this way. We had 
better run.” 

And Paul ran. He ran to the tree 
which grew beside the stone wall, and 
up the tree he scooted like an excited 
squirrel. And no sooner was he safe 
astride the topmost branch than the 
speckled hen came fluttering into the 
picture. She gazed upon the white 
empty shell which was once her child's 


HUMPTY DUMPTY 39 

home, and she screamed out, “Humpty 
Dumpty! Oh, Humpty Dumpty, 
where are you?” 

And from inside the rubber ball 
Humpty answered, “Here I am, 
mother dear.” 

The old hen hastened to the rubber 
ball, cocked her head to one side, and 
gazed at her son’s new home in amaze¬ 
ment. She stammered, “Did I lay 
that? Oh, mercy upon me! Did I 
lay that?” 

“No, mother,” cried the egg, “not 

altogether. You laid me , but not my 
bouncing home.” 

Then the old hen suddenly struck 
the ball a sharp peck with her beak, and 
the ball immediately bounded away 
like a chipmunk. It bounced over the 
ground, bumped against a stone, and 


HUMPTY DUMPTY 


40 

scurried in first one and then another 
direction. 

The hen looked so foolish that Paul 
burst into laughter. He laughed so 
violently that he shook the branch upon 
which he was perched, and—SNAP! 

The branch broke off close to the 
tree trunk, and Paul came tumbling 
down, on the other side of the wall. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE MAGIC CANDLE 


C 


LATTER!—Bang! 

Bang!—Clatter! 

“Goodness me!” gasped a 


little boy who had just jumped over a 
candlestick, “did I make all that noise 
with my jumping?” 

The little boy’s name was Jackie, and 
he turned and saw some one whom he 
had never laid eyes on before. He 
saw a boy wearing a white nightie. 

The boy lay upon the floor, and he 
was rubbing himself here, there, and all 
over. He rubbed his head, and he 
rubbed his shoulders and arms and el- 


42 THE MAGIC CANDLE 

bows, and he rubbed his knees and an¬ 
kles and toes. Then he counted his 
toes and counted his nose and his fin¬ 
gers and elbows and shoulders and 
head. 

He said, “They are all here, but they 
feel jaggy, just as if the sharp points of 
pins were pricking them.” 

“That comes of falling through my 
roof, instead of entering at the door,” 
declared Jackie. And then he added, 
“My name is Jackie-be-nimble-Jackie- 
be-quick-Jackie-jump-over-the-candle- 
stick.” 

His visitor bowed politely, and while 
he was picking himself up from the floor 
he said, “My name is Paul—just plain 
Paul. And I am glad to meet a boy 
with such a fine big long name as 
yours.” 



THE MAGIC CANDLE 43 

“All right,” returned the other. 
“We are good friends now, and I am 
glad you are here, because I am lonely 
for a playmate. Do you see my can¬ 
dlestick with the candle in it? It is 
the only toy I have ever owned; and 
the only way I can play with it is to 
jump over it. But I get so tired of do¬ 
ing nothing but jump, jump, jump. I 
wish the candlestick had wheels, so I 
could pretend it was a pretty blue 
wagon.” 

“Then let us light the candle,” Paul 
suggested, after a moment’s thinking. 
“That will be great fun.” 

“What will happen if we light it?” 
questioned Jackie. He had never 
heard of such a thing as lighting a can¬ 
dle. 

“Something very wonderful will hap- 


44 THE MAGIC CANDLE 

pen/' Paul said, his eyes growing big. 
“My father has a candle. And when 
he lights it, a flame comes. The flame 
is a fairy, I guess. It is as bright as a 
star, and it dances and flutters, and 
makes everything about it glitter like 
gold.” 

Jackie was not quite certain whether 
this was a good idea or not—this candle¬ 
lighting. He remembered that his can¬ 
dlestick and candle had been given him 
by his old, ancient uncle, whose whis¬ 
kers were purple. 

And because his whiskers were pur¬ 
ple, the uncle had been a magician, an 
enchanter. He enchanted rivers and 
made them flow sideways; and he en¬ 
chanted birds, and made them fly upside 
down. He enchanted trees, and made 
the trees 5 branches whip gentle breezes; 



THE MAGIC CANDLE 4? 

and he enchanted himself, one day, and 
no one ever saw him afterwards. 



His candlestick and candle had been given him by 
his old, ancient uncle 


However, when he gave the candle¬ 
stick and candle to Jack, he grinned 














































46 THE MAGIC CANDLE 

enchantedly and made magical motions 
in the air and spoke some wizards’ words 
backwards, and then he walked away 
entirely on his left foot. So maybe 
’twere not quite safe to light the candle 
after all. What if the candle were 
enchanted? 

Suddenly, while Jack was thinking 
about these mysterious things, he no¬ 
ticed that the room was growing dark. 

Paul had lighted the candle! Paul 
was crying, “I have lighted the candle, 
Jackie! Oh, I have lighted your can¬ 
dle, the candle which you jump over. 
And a flame has come to it—but the 
flame is not bright, like a star, nor does 
it dance nor flutter. Neither does it 
make everything glitter like gold! 

The flame is black!" 

Indeed, the flame of the candle was 


THE MAGIC CANDLE 47 

black. ’Twas the blackest thing ever 
seen. So black that it hurt the eyes to 
gaze at it. And instead of giving out 
light, the black flame gave out darkness . 
The darkness was thick and heavy, and 
it filled the room. 

Jackie was frightened, and he began 
to cry. Paul was not frightened, but 
he was greatly excited and he shouted, 
“Ho, ho! what a wonderful candle! 
The smoke of the flame purrs like 
sleepy kittens and gives a beautiful 
perfume like a forest of Christmas 
trees. 

There came no sound from Jackie 
except a gentle snoring. He had 
fallen to the floor, and was sound 
asleep with the happiest of smiles on 
his face. 

Then the most charming voice in all 


48 THE MAGIC CANDLE 

the world whispered, “Hist! Is Jackie 
sleeping?” 

“Yes,” Paul answered. “Who are 
you?” 

“I am Santa Claus,” came back the 
whisper, “and I have a bagful of won¬ 
derful gifts for Jackie-be-nimble- 
Jackie-be-quick- Jackie-jump-over-the 
candlestick.” 

Paul murmured in surprise, “You are 
Santa Claus did you say? Why, 
Santa, J tis not Christmas Eve. What 
brought you here? It is summertime, 
and Christmas Eve is months and 
months and months away.” 

Santa laughed softly and he hummed 
a tune. He seemed to be busy scatter¬ 
ing toys about the room. Paul could 
hear them dropping from his sack, his 


THE MAGIC CANDLE 49 

wonderful, glorious leather bag. There 
was a mysterious and magical tune to 
the sounds of the falling toys, and the 
unselfish Paul was happy to think they 
were all for lonesome little Jack. At 
last Santa said, “Tell me, who was it 
that lighted the enchanted candle which 
brought white-whiskered old Santa to 
this spot?” 

“ ’Twas I,” confessed Paul. 

“There is no other such candle in all 
the world. Did you know the candle 
would give a black flame, and that the 
black flame would give a darkness 
which is the darkness of Christmas 
Eve?” asked Santa Claus. 

“I did not know this,” Paul whis¬ 
pered. 

“ ’Tis Christmas Eve in this room 


50 THE MAGIC CANDLE 

while the black flame is on the candle 
and that is why I am here with presents 
for Jackie.” 

Then, Paul felt his hand grasped by 
a woolly mitten. “Come with me,” 
whispered Santa’s voice. And Paul 
was drawn up a chimney. 


CHAPTER V 

THE CROWN THAT JACK 

BROKE 


S ANTA CLAUS rushed pell-mell 
up the chimney of Jackie’s home, 
dragging Paul after him. 

When they reached the outside, the 
day was so bright that Paul was almost 
blinded, and he said to Santa, “Please 
let go my hand, I wish to rub my eyes.” 

Right at once Santa dropped the 
boy’s hand— 

And then Paul had the surprise of his 
life. He was not up in the air with 
good old Santa Claus at all. 

He found himself living in another 
picture! 


5^ 


THE CROWN 


He was seated in the grass, at the bot¬ 
tom of a steep hill. And a little girl 
came running to him crying, “Jack has 
broken his crown! Jack, our young 
king, has fallen and broken his nice 
new gold crown!” 

Paul sprang to his feet, and grasped 
the frightened girl’s hand, and said, 
“Who is Jack 4 ? Do you mean Jackie- 
be - nimble - Jackie - be - quick - Jackie - 
jump—?” 

The little girl interrupted with, “I 
mean Jack, the young king, and no 
other Jack. His name is Jack, and my 
name is Jill. We went up this hill to¬ 
gether to get a pail of water. And Jack 
fell down and broke his nice new gold 
crown, and I fell, too. I came tum¬ 
bling after. Have you got some yel¬ 
low solder 4 ?” 



THE CROWN 


53 


“Yellow solder?” questioned Paul, 
wonderingly. 



Right at once Santa dropped the boy’s hand 


“Yes, yellow solder, to mend a broken 
gold crown,” answered Miss Jill. 













54 


THE CROWN 


“White solder will not do, of course/’ 

Paul had no yellow solder; nor had 
he any pink solder or violet solder or 
black solder or any color of solder. He 
was not a tinsmith! He was just a lit¬ 
tle boy, named Paul; and he was dream¬ 
ing, and wearing his nightie. So why 
should he be carrying solder about with 
him 4 ? He could not help but laugh at 
so foolish an idea. 

He laughed, “Ha, ha, ha, ha!” And 
then the little girl led him to where Jack 
was sitting in the grass. He said to 
Jack, “Hello, there!”. 

“Oh, my goodness!” cried Jill, quite 
alarmed. “You should not speak that 
way to a king!” 

And Jack, the king, frowned and said, 
“Where are your manners, young man 4 ? 
Please kneel down and put your hands 


THE CROWN 


55 


together as if you were praying, and 
look humble, and then say very gently, 
‘Your Majesty, I beg to greet you, if 
you have no objection!’ And then give 
me some peppermint candy.” 

Paul lost no time doing what he was 
told. He knelt down and put his 
hands together as if he were praying, 
and he looked quite humble, and said 
very gently, “Your majesty, I beg to 
greet you, if you have no objection. 
And you may give me some peppermint 
candy.” 

“No, no, no!” stormed the young 
king. “You are to give me some pep¬ 
permint candy!—And please hurry, be¬ 
cause my fall has made me quite hun¬ 
gry." 

And then the king began to weep, and 
he kept saying, “Peppermint candy— 


THE CROWN 


?6 

peppermint candy! I want some pep¬ 
permint candy!” 

He said these words over and over 
again, weeping all the while as though 
his heart would break. But in a few 
minutes he stopped asking for candy, 
and he began asking for yellow solder. 
He cried, “Yellow solder—yellow sol¬ 
der! I want some yellow solder to 
mend my broken crown with!” 

Paul felt very sorry for King Jack. 
He wished that he had a pocketful of 
yellow solder and a pocketful of pepper¬ 
mint candy, but he had neither. And 
he told the king so. 

This made the king weep harder than 
ever. He wept and caught his breath, 
and coughed and gurgled—almost as 
though he had the whooping cough. 
And then he moaned, “Oh, dear me! 



THE CROWN 


.57 

He has no solder to mend my gold 
crown. Boo, hoo! What shall I do 
for a hat?” 

Jill whispered to Paul, “I am going 
to sing a song. Maybe that will make 
Jack feel better.” 

So she opened her mouth real wide, 
and sang: 

“Jack and Jill went up the hill 
To get a pail of water. 

Jack fell down, and broke his crown-n-n-n , 
And Jill came tumbling a-a-a-after-r-r-r!” 

The song seemed to quiet King Jack, 
it seemed to quiet his nerves at once. 
He stopped weeping, and began to 
laugh. He laughed and laughed and 
laughed, and when the laughing was 
over, he began to chuckle. He chuck- 
kled and chuckled and chuckled, and 


THE CROWN 


58 

when the chuckling was all over and 
done with, he was ready to talk. So he 
said: 

“l feel so good that I believe I shall 
fall asleep and snore and have a dream.” 
And, as he was a king, and could do 
whatever he wished as soon as he had 
wished it, he fell asleep, and this was 
his dream: 

King Jack dreamed that the song 
which Jill had sung was so nice and 
poetic and musical that it was printed 
in a book. And many people read it, 
and they declared, c Tt is the most beauti¬ 
ful song in all the whole wide world!” 
And then they would sing it over and 
over, very loudly, at the top of their 
voices: 

“Jack and Jill went up the hill 
To get a pail of water 


THE CROWN 


59 


Jack fell down, and broke his crown , 

And Jill came tumbling a-a-a-after-r-r-r!” 

The people sang this song, very 
loudly, at the top of their voices, but 
they did not seem to understand what 
the song meant. They did not seem to 
know that Jack was a king. They 
thought that his crown was his head; 
they never quite understood that his 
crown was the gold circlet he wore on 
his head instead of a hat. 

This was King Jack’s dream, and 
after he had dreamed it he liked it so 
well that he dreamed it all over again. 
And then he awoke. 

He woke up, and the first thing he did 
was to ask for Paul. 

But Paul was nowhere to be found. 

Jack said to Jill, “Where is he?” 

Jill did not know. 


6o 


THE CROWN 


She shook her head and said, “Your 
Majesty, shall I call him?” 

“Yes, if you please,” answered Jack. 
Jill opened her mouth, to call, but she 
remembered she did not know the visi¬ 
tor’s name. 

So she closed her mouth again. 


CHAPTER VI 


MOTHER HUBBARD’S 
HUNGRY DOG 

’Un WOULD have made no differ¬ 
ence if Jill had known Paul’s 
name, and called him. 

Paul was far away. 

Yes, Paul was very far away. At 
the exact moment when Jill opened her 
mouth to call, Paul was standing in the 
center of the deep wood, before a door. 
The door did not seem to be fastened to 
anything. It just stood by itself, and 
it as much as said to Paul, “Please 
open me and see where you are.” 

Yes, in Paul’s mind, the door really 



62 MOTHER HUBBARD 


said these words, and the boy accepted 
the invitation. He pushed the door 
open, walked past it, and found himself 
inside a quaint kitchen. 

“I am in another picture!” he cried. 
And so he was. He was in the picture 
of the bare cupboard, before which stood 
an old white-haired lady and a scrawny 
dog. 

The old lady turned, as Paul entered 
her kitchen and she said, “Welcome, lit¬ 
tle stranger!” And the dog wagged his 
tail and stood on his hind legs. 

“See the dear creature!” exclaimed 
the old lady. “He is remarkably 
clever. He likes to stand on his hind 
legs, and he likes to eat bones.” 

Paul said, “Oh, yes, he is a fine dog,” 
and then he turned his eyes away to look 
about the kitchen. He saw pretty pic- 


MOTHER HUBBARD 63 

tures upon the walls, and he saw a car¬ 
pet on the floor, and he saw this and that 
and other things. A tap, tap, tapping 
sound reached his ears distinctly, and 
he asked the old lady, whose name was 
Mother Hubbard, “Who is beating 
upon a drum"?” 

“No one is beating upon a drum,” 
whispered Mother Hubbard. “ ’Tis 
my poor doggie tapping on his empty 
stomach. The cupboard is bare, and 
my doggie is starving for a bone.” 

As Mother Hubbard spoke, the dog 
sighed and he again stood on his hind 
legs. The old lady gazed fondly at 
him, and she sighed, too. She patted 
her pet’s head and murmured, “Poor, 
starving fellow! The cupboard is 
bare, there are no bones, and you are 
growing thinner each minute. I wish 


64 MOTHER HUBBARD 

something could be done to make you 
forget your hunger.” 

“Maybe I can find some bones,” cried 
Paul, and he began to search over the 
kitchen. He looked under the table 
and upon the window sills and inside 
the cupboard. He looked behind the 
pictures on the walls, he looked under 
the edge of the carpet, and even indeed 
looked up the chimney—he searched 
everywhere, but no bones were to be 
found. 

After a while Paul made a discovery. 
In a little drawer in the table he found 
a checkerboard and some red and white 
checkers. “What nice wooden check¬ 
ers!” he cried. And Mother Hubbard 
seemed pleased, and she said, “You 
might play a game of checkers with my 
dog. Maybe that will cause him to for- 



MOTHER HUBBARD 65 

get there are no bones in the cupboard.’ 5 
“Your dog likes to play checkers /” 



The dog snatched a white checker 


gasped the astonished boy. “My good¬ 
ie 

ness! 

“Yes, indeed, he is simply crazy about 
playing checkers—and eating bones.” 









































































66 MOTHER HUBBARD 


“Well, well, well!” murmured Paul. 

Then the boy laid the checkerboard 
upon the floor, arranged the white check¬ 
ers for the dog and the red ones for him¬ 
self, and as he was about to say, “Let 
us begin,” the dog snatched a white 
checker in his mouth. 

“See him!” whispered Mother Hub¬ 
bard, “he is going to make the first 
move.” And she was all excited, and 
beamed with joy and pride. 

But the only move the dog made was 
to throw back his head and swallow the 
checker. 

“He will fill himself with splinters, 
swallowing a wooden checker,” gasped 
Paul. 

Mother Hubbard was shocked, and 
she cried, “Oh, doggie! That is not the 
way to play checkers.” 


MOTHER HUBBARD 67 

Paul put his finger upon a red 
checker, and moved it. 

’Twas the dog’s turn, now. And he 
grabbed another white checker and swal¬ 
lowed it. He swallowed it without 
chewing, and it seemed to make him very 
happy. 

Mother Hubbard frowned severely, 
and she said, “Tut, tut, tut! Doggie 
mustn’t!” Then she whispered to Paul, 
“Please forgive him. Maybe his mind 
is wandering, on account of his hunger.” 

Paul answered, “All right.” And he 
moved another red checker. 

The dog was becoming more and more 
interested in the game, now, because he 
barked sharply, and grabbed two white 
checkers and swallowed them. 

This hurt Mrs. Hubbard’s feelings so 
greatly that she wanted to cry. And 


68 MOTHER HUBBARD 


she began to search for her handker¬ 
chief, so she could wipe her eyes. She 
could not find the handkerchief in her 
pocket, nor was it upon the table. She 
hunted and hunted, saying all the while, 
“Where in the world is my handker¬ 
chief?” 

Paul was very polite; he had excel¬ 
lent manners, and he at once stopped 
playing checkers, so he could help find 
the handkerchief. 

And at last he found it; Mother Hub¬ 
bard had it in her hand. She was quite 
absent-minded, and had forgotten it 
was there. 

Paul was about to continue with his 
game of checkers, when suddenly the 
dog sprang upon the board and swal¬ 
lowed down, one after the other, all the 
checkers that were left—excepting a 



MOTHER HUBBARD 69 

single red checker that Paul held in his 
hand. Then the animal gave a sigh of 
contentment and crawled under the 
table to sleep. 

Paul looked at the checker that was 
left, and he said, “The dog will cer¬ 
tainly be all splintery, inside, eating so 
many wooden checkers.” 

The boy’s words frightened the old 
lady. “Splinters!” she cried. “My 
doggie will die! The splinters will jab 
him full of holes!” 

But Paul had made a discovery. He 
had been examining the checker that 
was in his hand, and he made a very, 
very important discovery. He burst 
into a happy laugh, and for some mo¬ 
ments he was unable to speak. How¬ 
ever, he finally managed to sputter, 
“What a clever creature is this dog! 


70 MOTHER HUBBARD 

The checkers are not wooden checkers 
—they are carved from bonel ” 

Mother Hubbard jumped out of her 
chair and ran to Paul and threw her 
arms about him, and she gave him a 
smacking kiss on the cheek. 

Smack! went the kiss, just like an ex¬ 
plosion. 

Indeed, the kiss must have been an 
explosion, for Paul was blown through 
the roof of the kitchen, and went flip- 
pety-flop! away high up into the sky. 


CHAPTER VII 

LITTLE MISS MUFFET RUNS 

AWAY 


W HEN Paul found himself far 
away from Mother Hub¬ 
bard’s kitchen, and very high 
up in the sky, he said, “Well, I can see 
no hungry moons, so I guess I am safe.” 

And surely enough there was no moon 
in sight, but there was a great white 
fluffy-edged cloud near by, and the 
cloud was the home of a bright flash of 
lightning. And what did the lightning 
do but dash over to where Paul was 
drifting, and pick the boy up and carry 
him into the center of the cloud. When 
this was done the lightning said, “Please 


72 LITTLE MISS MUFFET 

/ 

stay here where you will be safe, and I 
shall capture a playmate for you/ 5 
The electric creature whisked away, 
and in a minute came back with a little 
girl who was holding fast to a bowl filled 
with curds and whey. The girl was 
left standing near Paul, and the light¬ 
ning whisked out of its cloud-home 
again. Very soon it returned, saying: 
“I shall go back and bring something for 
the girl to sit upon. 55 

Then for a fourth time did the electric 
flash depart, and when it whizzed back 
there was a tuffet tucked under its arm. 

The tuffet was placed a bit over to 
the left of the center of the cloud, and 
when it was fixed securely the little girl 
seated herself upon it and began eating 
from the bowl of curds and whey. 
Seeing that all was as it should be, 


LITTLE MISS MUFFET 73 

the lightning gave a satisfied sigh, 
clapped its hands and stamped its feet, 
and then, lo and behold! the cloud 
changed into a paper page—a book 
page. And the girl, whose name was 
Miss Muffet, became a part of a picture 
which was printed upon the book page. 
And the tuffet became a part of the pic¬ 
ture, and also there was a picture-spider. 
And no sooner did Miss Muffet see the 
spider than she uttered a scream, care¬ 
fully set down her bowl of curds and 
whey, and then away she ran like a 
frightened mouse. 

She screamed, “Yip! yip! yi!” and she 
flitted about, several times coming so 
near to the edge of the picture that Paul 
held his breath for fear she would tum¬ 
ble off. 

Paul cried, “Come back, come back; 


74 LITTLE MISS MUFFET 

the spider will not harm you!” But 
Miss Muffet only ran the faster and 
screamed the louder. This quite upset 
Paul, and he said to the spider, “See 
what you have done! You have fright¬ 
ened my playmate into a spasm of run¬ 
ning and screaming. Why did you not 
mind your own business?” 

“I was minding my own business,” 
stoutly declared the insect. “ Tis my 
business to get hungry; and when I am 
hungry 5 tis my business to eat. I sat 
down beside Miss Muffet because I 
wanted a taste of curds and whey.” 

“You should have brought a lunch 
of your own,” grumbled the boy. 
“Now, what you must do is this: you 
must run and catch Miss Muffet before 
she falls out of the picture, and bring 
her back safe to the tuffet.” 


LITTLE MISS MUFFET 75 

Of course the spider laughed. The 
hungry creature could hardly do any¬ 
thing else after hearing so foolish a de¬ 
mand, and it answered back without an 
instant’s hesitation, “How can a tiny 
spider catch a huge girl? Ho, she is ten 
thousand times bigger than I am!” 

“Well, then,” Paul muttered, “I shall 
try catching her myself. But I know 
I shall never succeed, as she is scamper¬ 
ing about faster than the wind.” 

“I have a nice idea!” cried the spider, 
who was a great thinker of ideas, “you 
can busy yourself trying to catch Miss 
Muffet, while I stay here and eat the 
curds and whey. The food will make 
me huge and strong, and after I have 
eaten it I shall help you catch the young 
lady.” 

Paul could see that this was sensible 


76 LITTLE MISS MUFFET 

advice, so he ran helter-skelter after the 
girl. He ran and ran and ran, and the 
spider ate and ate and ate. 

And the faster Paul ran, then the fas¬ 
ter did the girl run. And the faster 
they both ran, then the faster the spider 
ate, and the faster it grew big and 
strong. 

Before very long the boy had run him¬ 
self breathless and he was obliged to lie 
down and pant like a steam engine. 
But by this time the curds and whey 
had been swallowed and the spider had 
grown to the size of a tiger. And the 
insect said to Paul, “I am now as big as 
a tiger, and you may lie still and get 
your lost breath while I go catch Miss 
Muffet.” 

But the frightened girl was not to be 
caught! 


LITTLE MISS MUFFET 77 

Never, never, never! 

And after an hour had passed by, the 



He ran helter-skelter after the girl 


spider came back to Paul and threw it¬ 
self down on the ground beside the boy 
and gasped, “Dear me! I’m done out 















78 LITTLE MISS MUFFET 

now. But what’s the difference, any¬ 
way? It’s your turn to catch Miss 
Muffet.” 

So Paul took his turn, he ran after the 
girl who couldn’t be caught, and who 
was screaming, “Yip! yip! yi!” with all 
the power of her shrill voice. Very 
soon the boy came back and he was much 
surprised to find that the spider was 
now as large as a great hippopotamus. 
“While you were gone,” explained the 
spider, “I discovered that the only way 
I could catch Miss Muffet was to make 
myself even larger than a tiger. So I 
ate the tuffet, and now look at me. Am 
I not immense?” 

And the hippopotamus-sized spider 
took its turn again at catching the nim¬ 
ble girl. But the results were the same 
as before. The insect came back empty- 


LITTLE MISS MUFFET 79 

handed and completely out of breath; 
but it was determined, now, to do or die. 
“I must eat still more,” it declared; “I 
must grow to the size of an elephant, for 
I will catch Miss Muffet!” 

“But there is nothing left for you to 
eat,” cried Paul. “You have eaten the 
curds and whey and you have eaten the 
tuffet—” 

“Ho, ho!” the spider roared, “I shall 
now eat myself /” And it opened its 
huge red mouth and made twelve great 
bites of its own self. 

What a foolish thing to do! The 
creature should have known better, for 
after it had eaten itself it was all gone . 

There was no more spider left in the 
picture. And at once Miss Muffet re¬ 
covered from her fright and she came 
tripping daintily back to where she had 


8o LITTLE MISS MUFFET 


left her curds and whey—upon the tuf- 
fet. But the lunch and the tuffet were 
gone, of course. And the maiden 
shrugged her shoulders, tilted her nose, 
and walked out of the picture to her 
home, wherever it was. 

Then the page was blank . There 
was nothing at all upon it except little 
Paul, who wondered what the next pic¬ 
ture would be—suddenly a dark spot 
began to show beside him and as Paul 
watched it, the spot lengthened, and 
went right across the page and Paul saw 
it was really a dusty country road. 



CHAPTER VIII 


SIMON’S LIVELY WHALE 

P AUL walked along the dusty road, 
his bare feet stirring up clouds of 
powdered clay. 

Where was he journeying to? 
Really, he did not know nor did he 
seem to care. He was merely walking 
along a dusty road, stirring up clouds 
of powdered clay with his bare feet. 
And before long he came to a pretty 
wayside cottage where flowers bloomed. 
Near by the cottage door sat a boy upon 
a stool, fishing. There was no pool to 
be seen, nor was there a brook—the boy 
was fishing in a tin pail filled with 


water. 


82 


SIMON’S WHALE 


Such an unusual sight as this caused 
Paul to come to a sudden halt. He 
gazed at the youthful fisherman and 
said, "Hello! What is your name, and 
what are you doing?” 

"Ho! my name is Simple Simon, and 
I am fishing—fishing for a whale. My 
mother told me that whales live in 
water, and as this pailful of water is all 
the water I can find, I suppose there 
surely is a whale living in it.” 

Little Paul did not laugh, nor did he 
smile. He had never seen a whale, you 

know. And what is more, he had never 

» 

even heard of such a creature. There¬ 
fore he thought that everything was all 
right. He threw himself down in the 
grass, saying, "Simple Simon, do you 
mind if I stay here and watch you catch 
the whale?” 


SIMON’S WHALE 


83 

£< Ah, but you might be afraid of the 
whale when I catch him,” answered 
Simon. 

“No, indeed!” cried Paul bravely, 
“there is nothing I am afraid of—ex¬ 
cept thunderstorms. I am easily fright¬ 
ened by thunderstorms, but not by 
whales.” 

Simple Simon laughed. “I, too, am 
afraid of thunderstorms,” he said, “and 
I hide under my bed whenever one 
comes creeping along. But I am far 
from being timid about whales; so I 
guess we are both quite alike, and we 
should be friends—shouldn’t we? Yes, 
you may stay and watch me catch the 
whale. But you must keep very quiet. 
Should you make even the tiniest noise 
then the whale will scamper away.” 

Paul promised to keep as quiet as a 



84 SIMON’S WHALE 

bashful mouse; he would be careful not 
to make the slightest sound. 

So the fishing went on and on and on 
—until something happened. Yes, 
something happened, and this is what it 
was: The sky above began to darken, 
and a low rumbling sound was heard. 
Simple Simon grew excited and whis¬ 
pered, “Do you hear the noise 4 ? The 
whale is mumbling because he is hungry 
for the worm on my hook.” 

Some drops of water splashed against 
the two boys’ cheeks, and some drops 
fell upon their hands, and the grass and 
the flowers and the cottage were sprin¬ 
kled. And then Simple Simon said, 
“The whale in the tin pail is kicking his 
fins, and that throws the water about 
over everything.” 

Paul said nothing. He kept ever so 


SIMON’S WHALE 


85 

quiet, his full attention upon the pail 
and the fisherman; and after a while he 
heard a louder rumbling noise. 

“ Tis the sly old whale grinding his 
teeth together,” explained Simon, wink¬ 
ing knowingly and grasping his fishing 
rod more tightly. “After another min¬ 
ute has passed he will snap at the bait, 
and then the fun will begin. Oh, you 
are soon to learn that I am the most 
wonderful fisherman in the world.” 

The sky grew darker and darker, and 
suddenly there was a flickering flash of 
fire that lasted for an instant or two, and 
Simon exclaimed, “The whale’s grind¬ 
ing teeth are striking sparks, which 
means that he is almost starved for a 
fat worm.” 

Paul was becoming more interested 
than ever. He was really never so 


86 


SIMON’S WHALE 


deeply interested before in all his life. 
He could think of nothing whatever 
but the fishing. 

“I shall see just how Simon catches 
the whale,” he thought, “and then when 
I get back home again I shall fish for 
whales in my stepmother’s tin pail. We 
shall have whales to eat for breakfast 
and we shall have ’em for dinner and 
supper, and we shall have ’em for bed¬ 
time lunches. And, what is more, I 
shall be known as a famous fisherman.” 

Then he began to wonder what the 
strange fish called a whale would look 
like—this odd, curious fish that grum¬ 
bled and kicked its fins and struck 
sparks with its teeth. How large would 
it be?— As large as an elephant? Oh, 
my! Surely a fish of this size, to 
squeeze itself inside a tin pail, must 


SIMON’S WHALE 87 

be magical and full of enchantment! 

Whirr-r-r-r-r-r!— Something like a 
wind stirred in the flowers, and Simon 
held up a finger and said, “The whale is 
blowing out his breath, and that means 
he is making room inside him for the 
fat worm on my hook. The bait looks 
good to the whale—like pies look to 
me!” 

At this moment Simon’s mother ap¬ 
peared in the doorway of the cottage. 
She did not see Simon or Paul. She 
gazed only at the sky, and she whis¬ 
pered to herself, “What a remarkable 
thundercloud!—’tis shaped like a huge 
fish. Oh, yes, like a fish it is shaped, 
and it is filled with lightning and rain 
and thunder. I must close tight all my 
windows and search for Simple Simon. 
Ho! But I know where he is; he is hid- 


88 


SIMON’S WHALE 


ing beneath his bed. He is so fearful 
of thunderstorms.” 

As the old lady closed the door, a rab¬ 
bit scampered across the grass, search¬ 
ing for shelter. A bird fluttered to its 
nest, and the rose-bugs upon the rose 
bushes crawled slowly underneath the 
green leaves. 

Then there was a blinding flash of 
fire and a deafening crash!—but the 
two boys were not frightened. Who, 
indeed, would be startled at the harm¬ 
less capers of a hungry whale? 

So flash followed flash, and the thun¬ 
derous roars continued, and water 
splashed in all directions. Simple 
Simon shouted in great glee, “ ? Tis a 
lively old whale I am about to catch. 
He kicks water with his fins and he rum¬ 
bles and roars and grinds sparks with his 


SIMON’S WHALE 89 

teeth—just as a hungry whale should 
do.” 

Paul wanted badly to cry out words 
of encouragement, but he dared make 
no noise. He was a fine little chap, and 
never did things he was asked not to do. 

Suddenly there was a blinding flash 
of fire and a most terrifying crash of 
noise— Sizz-z-z-z-z-zz! Bang-g-g-g! 
And over tumbled Simon from the 
stool, and Paul, overcome with sur¬ 
prise, cried out, “Oh, oh!” 

Instantly Simon turned upon the lad, 
shouting, “Why did you cry out 'Oh, 
oh!’—don’t you know any better? See 
—the pail is upset, and the whale has 
flown away. You have spoiled my fish¬ 
ing trip!” 

“There he is—up in the sky!” cried 
Paul, pointing upward. “He is grind- 


go 


SIMON’S WHALE 


ing sparks of fire from his teeth, and 
roaring, and kicking water from his 
fins!” 

And, truly enough, there was a great 
black whale in the sky—or maybe it 
was merely a black cloud shaped like a 
whale—and it was floating away as fast 
as it could travel. 

Simple Simon’s mother appeared in 
the cottage door again, and she smiled 
and beamed and looked proud and said, 
“Why, what brave boys you are! 
Out in all this thunderstorm, and not 
the least bit frightened! Dear me, I 
must tell the neighbors.” 

“Thunderstorm!” gasped Simon. 
“And I thought it was a whale!” 

“And I, too, thought it was a whale!” 
exclaimed Paul, vastly pleased that he 
had fooled himself into being fearless 


SIMON’S WHALE 91 

when thunder crashed about his ears. 

And then Paul went on his way, 
chuckling gleefully, and smiling and 
nodding at the dripping flowers. 


CHAPTER IX 


MARY’S LAMB IN SCHOOL 


Mary had a little lamb 
Its fleece was white as snow; 

And everywhere that Mary went, 
The lamb was sure to go. 

He followed her to school one day; 
That was against the rule; 

It made the children laugh and play 
To see a lamb at school. 


N OW it happened that Paul ap¬ 
peared in the Mary-had-a- 
little-lamb picture at the exact 
moment when the lamb was following 
Mary to school, and Paul lost no time in 
asking, “Where are you going?” And 



MARY’S LAMB 


93 


Mary lost no time in tilting her curls to 
one side and answering, “I am going to 
school, I thank you, and my bleating 
lamb is following me there. The 
teacher will tell us a beautiful story. 
She always tells stories on Fridays, and 

to-day is Friday. Two Fridays ago the 

» 

story was about a bee; one Friday ago 
the story was about the bee’s mother who 
once made honey for the king. But 
what the next story is to be about, I have 
no idea.” 

“Whatever the next story is about, I 
hope it will make me laugh,” said the 
lamb. 

“I hope it will make me weep,” said 
Mary. 

Then they went on their way. They 
passed by a tree filled with red blossoms 
and they passed by a bush filled with 


MARY’S LAMB 


94 

yellow blossoms. In the tree of red 
blossoms yellow birds sang, and in the 
bush of yellow blossoms red birds sang; 
and upon the top of the hill beyond 
stood the white schoolhouse. 

“May I go with you?” cried Paul. 

“Yes, come along,” said Mary. And 
the lamb murmured, “You are quite 
welcome, so come along.” And Paul 
ran past the red-flowered tree and the 
yellow-flowered bush, and he followed 
Mary and the lamb up the hill, and into 
the white schoolhouse they crept. The 
three sat down upon a bench, and the 
teacher came into the room and seated 
herself in a chair and this is the story 
she told: 

Once on a time there was a cobbler 
whose heart was the soul of an artist. 
Each old shoe he picked up to mend he 



“Once on a time,” said the teacher, “there was a cob¬ 
bler whose heart was the soul of an artist.” Page 94, 


























































































MARY’S LAMB 


95 

wished was a lump of white marble; and 
he wished that the hammer and the awl 
he worked with were a mallet and a 
chisel, that he might carve a beautiful 
face in the lump of marble. 

The cobbler’s daughter was more 
beautiful than all the maidens in the 
world. She was, without doubt, more 
beautiful than the sun which lived in 
the blue sky, and without doubt she was 
fairer than the moon which lived in the 
black sky. And one day she wandered 
through a field and into a deep forest. 
Her father cobbled until he had mended 
many shoes, and then he rested and 
called for his daughter to come and sing 
him a song. She did not answer, nor 
was she to be found when her father 
searched for her about the house. Then 
his friends whispered to him, “You must 


MARY’S LAMB 


96 

go into the forest to find your daugh¬ 
ter.” And the man ran through the 
field and into the forest where he cried 
out his daughter’s name, “Margot, Mar¬ 
got, Margot!” This he cried many 
times, but not once was he answered. 
His voice frightened a weazel, and the 
weazel crept into its home; and his voice 
frightened a black crow, and the crow 
cawed and flew through the sky until it 
was lost from sight. 

But a hare and a gray wolf were more 
brave; they did not run. The hare 
asked, “For whom are you searching?” 

“My daughter, whose voice is silver, 
has wandered into the forest,” whispered 
the father. 

“Ho; the forest has hidden your 
child,” said the hare, who was wise and 
knew the tricky ways of a forest. “You 


MARY’S LAMB 


97 

will find her concealed in the forest’s 
heart. The forest’s heart is a huge rock 
which sits upon a throne of moss.” 

And then the gray wolf said, “Since 
your child is hidden in the forest’s 
stone heart, then you will need my 
heavy mallet and my sharp chisel to 
cut the rock from around her and set her 
free.” And the good wolf gave the 
man a mallet and chisel. The cobbler 
thanked the wolf and he thanked the 
hare, and he ran deeper into the forest 
to find the stone heart which rested up¬ 
on the throne of moss. He saw a birch 
tree whose branches all pointed in one 
direction, and he ran with all his speed 
in this direction. He came to a brook 
and the brook dried itself up so that it 
could be crossed; he came to a tangled 
wall of vines, and the vines parted; he 


MARY S LAMB 


98 

came to a huge fallen oak, and the oak 
stood upright that it might not bar the 
way. 

At last the cobbler came upon the 
moss throne, and he flew at the stone 
heart with mallet and chisel, and he cut, 
cut, cut to free his child. Deeper 
and deeper into the stone heart he cut, 
and the flinty chips flew like hail from a 
cloud. Cut, cut, cut! and ere long the 
tools had uncovered a beautiful chin. 
Tap, tap, tap, cut, cut, cut, and a charm¬ 
ing mouth and a dainty nose came into 
being. 

Then, more tapping and more cut¬ 
ting, and a neck and a bosom and a slim 
waist, legs and knees and ankles and 
feet, blossomed forth, and the beautiful 
lost maiden stood before her father. 

“I have set you free, I have robbed 


MARY’S LAMB 99 

the forest’s stone heart which robbed 



“You have turned to stone ” 


me!” cried the cobbler, but the figure 
did not move. 

















100 


MARY’S LAMB 


How very still it stood! 

“Margot, Margot, you are mine 
again, so come home with me; come 
home, and let your silver voice charm 
my ears,” murmured the cobbler, clutch¬ 
ing at his daughter’s hand. Then he 
sprang back with a loud cry: “How 
cold and hard are your fingers!” He 
touched the child’s neck and hair and 
face, he touched her gown— “You 
have turned to stone!” he wept, and he 
fell down at the silent one’s feet, where 
he lay for hours and hours, until his 
neighbors, missing him when night 
came, searched and found him, and 
gathered him up and carried him home. 

When at last the cobbler opened his 
eyes again he was lying upon a white 
bed—his own bed. And his daughter 
stood by his side, and in the room were 


MARY’S LAMB 


101 


many friends and neighbors. And 
among them was no other than the 
haughty king. 

The daughter threw her arms about 
her father and cried, “You have come 
back to life again! For two days and 
two nights you have lain upon your bed 
as one dead, but now you live!” And 
the neighbors and friends said, “The 
great artist, who dwelt among us as a 
cobbler and who ran into the forest in 
search of his child, has opened his eyes 
to see the great pride we hold for him. 
He who tarried in the forest to carve 
a grand figure in a shapeless rock shall 
live long and be happy.” 

And the ruler of the kingdom stepped 
to the bedside and murmured, “Your 
duty from this day on will be to carve 
beautiful images in marble to please 


102 


MARY’S LAMB 


the eyes of my people. And for each 
image you carve you shall be given a 
bag of yellow gold.” 

And the artist, who was once a cob¬ 
bler, whispered to his daughter, “Sing 
me a song, and then promise me you will 
never again wander into the forest.” 

This was the story the teacher told. 
And when it was ended, Mary clapped 
her small hands in delight. And her 
lamb bleated and danced about, which 
caused such a stir in the school that the 
teacher turned the lively creature out. 

But still he lingered near, 

And waited patiently about 
Till Mary did appear. 

Then he ran to her, and laid 
His head upon her arm, 

As if to say, “I’m not afraid— 

You’ll keep me from all harm.” 


MARY’S LAMB 


103 

“What makes the lamb love Mary so*?” 

The eager children cry. 

“Oh, Mary loves the lamb, you know , 55 
The teacher did reply. 


CHAPTER X 


THE SHOE-HOME 


P AUL, all alone, walked away from 
the little white schoolhouse. He 
walked down the hill, up which 
he had climbed when he followed Mary 
and her little lamb; he again passed by 
the flowering tree and the flowering 
bush, and he kept on until he came to 
somewhere. 

Somewhere seemed to be quite a 
strange place, because, when Paul 
paused there to rest, his eyes fell upon 
a huge leather shoe. A fat old woman, 
who was barefooted, walked around 
and around the shoe, muttering to her- 


THE SHOE-HOME 105 

self and shaking her head. She carried 
a switch in her hand, and when she saw 
Paul she cried, “Little boy, little boy, 
have you seen anything of my young¬ 
est child, whose name is Miss Five 
Feet?” 

“No, I have not seen Miss Five 
Feet,” replied Paul, trying hard to keep 
from laughing. To see an old bare¬ 
footed woman walking around a huge 
leather shoe was enough to make any 
one wish to smile; but for this old 
woman to speak of a girl named Miss 
Five Feet was quite enough to cause 
one to wish to laugh outright. Paul 
managed to hold back the laugh, and 
when he felt able to speak without tit¬ 
tering he asked the old woman, “Who 
is Miss Five Feet?” 

“Who is Miss Five Feet?” gasped 


io6 THE SHOE-HOME 


the old woman. “Is it possible you do 
not know? Really, is there any one 
in the world who does not know my 
daughter, Miss Five Feet?” 

“What a queer name for a girl,” mur¬ 
mured Paul. 

“Not at all queer!” snapped the 
woman, who overheard the remark. 
“ ’Tis no more queer for a girl to be 
named Miss Five Feet than for one to 
be named Miss Jennie Smith. I have 
the great honor of being the old lady 
who lives in a shoe, and who has so 
many children that—oh, that I don’t 
know what to do!” 

“I am in another picture,” Paul said 
to himself, although talking aloud, “yes, 
here is another picture, and I am living 

* * . 55 

in it. 

“Another picture!” exclaimed the old 



THE SHOE-HOME 


107 

woman, “indeed you are in two pictures. 
Look behind you. 5 ’ 

Paul turned around and what he saw 
gave him a great surprise. He was liv¬ 
ing in two pictures, this time, and the 
second picture was most wondrously 
beautiful. It showed a magnificent 
castle, and from the castle’s turrets 
floated blue banners, and painted upon 
each banner was a golden comet. The 
roof of the castle was shingled with 
shimmering wings of beetles, and the 
walls were built of gray marble. At 
the front of the castle was a vast, wide 
porch supported upon the backs of a 
score of petrified elephants. 

The old woman whispered to Paul, 
“Do you see the elephants that hold up 
the magnificent porch? Once each 
year they come to life and carry the 


io8 THE SHOE-HOME 


porch, filled with people of royal blood, 
to the four corners of the kingdom. 
And then they come back again, and 
again become petrified. All this is very 
wonderful, but not as wonderful as my 
shoe-home. I would rather, by far, live 
in my shoe-home than in the castle. 

Tis much cheaper. When I was mar¬ 
ried I said to my husband, 'John, we 
shall go to housekeeping in a shoe' 
And John said, 'What’s the idea of that 
crazy notion?’ And I said, 'Oh, just 
to keep down expenses. We shall have 
a large family some day and we shall 
save money by making one shoe do for 
all of us.’ This was a bright and wise 
thought of mine, wasn’t it? Yes, in¬ 
deed, it surely was. We save so much 
money by going barefooted. And when 
we wish to wear shoes we stay in our 


THE SHOE-HOME 109 

home—in our shoe-home—and the shoe 
fits us quite comfortably.” 

Paul took his gaze from the beautiful 
castle long enough to look at the woman 
and say, “Wouldn’t it be as cheap to go 
barefooted and live in a wooden home?” 

“No, it would not,” declared the 
woman. “Just think of how costly it 
would be to have the wooden home 
painted each springtime. My gracious! 
to paint a wooden home costs almost a 
hundred dollars. But whenever our 
shoe-home looks dingy, we pay a boot- 
black ten cents to polish it.” 

Well, the old woman who lived in a 
shoe talked on and on for some little 
time. Her tongue wagged until it 
grew tired, and then she kept quiet. 
Paul now had a chance to pay attention 
to the old woman’s children who were 


no THE SHOE-HOME 


playing about their leather home. He 
said to the youngest child, who was a 
girl, “What is your name?” and she told 
him*that her name was Miss Feet—Miss 
Five Feet. She said her last name was 
Feet because she lived in a shoe, and 
that her first name was Five because she 
was five years old. “When I am six 
years old my name will be Miss Six 
Feet,” she explained. 

“What is your name?” Paul asked 
the largest child, who was a boy, and 
this child replied very politely as he 
bowed a bow that was full of good man¬ 
ners, “My name is Mr. Fourteen Feet- 
and-six-inches. It is my name because 
I am fourteen and a half years old.” 

At this moment Paul heard an out¬ 
burst of music coming from the wonder¬ 
ful castle, and the music was made by 


THE SHOE-HOME m 

scores of fiddles and dozens of harps 



“My name is Mr. Fourteen Feet-and-six-inches” 


and many chattering tambourines and 
booming drums. The music was mixed 






















112 


THE SHOE-HOME 


with the gay voices of men and the 
laughing voices of maidens, and once or 
twice there was to be heard the coarse 
cry of a raven. 

“Isn’t the music grand!” cried the 
old woman who lived in a shoe; “what 
will you do for me if I allow you to stay 
and listen to it*?” No doubt she was a 
person who was always looking for a 
bargain. 

Poor Paul! what had he, who owned 
nothing in the world but a white 
nightie, to give to the old woman 6 ? He 
couldn’t give his nightie, to pay for the 
privilege of listening to the charming 
music. No, indeed! However, he 
might do the mistress of the shoe a favor 
of some sort. The very thing! 

And the boy looked carefully about, 
to see what favor he could do. His 


THE SHOE-HOME 113 

eyes fell upon the shoe, which was really 
a very large slipper, rather than a shoe. 
Paul was not long seeing that the shoe 
was badly in need of a good polishing, 
so he said to the old woman, “If you will 
allow me to stay here and listen to the 
music which is coming from the picture 
behind me, I shall polish your shoe- 
home until it shines like glass.” 

This offer struck the woman as some¬ 
thing very fine and she lost no time in 
finding a soft cloth and a bottle of pol¬ 
ish. These articles she handed to Paul, 
and then she said, “Go ahead and pol¬ 
ish my shoe-home until it shines like 
glass, and then you may stay here and 
fill your ears with all the music they 
will hold.” 

After saying this the lady gathered 
together her many children and took 


114 THE shoe-home 

them for a stroll, leaving Paul to do his 
chore. 

Paul worked very rapidly, with the 
beautiful music to give him spirit; and 
he rubbed the soft cloth over the shoe 
so fast that his arms could scarcely be 
seen. He rubbed and polished and 
rubbed, never growing weary, never 
stopping for an instant. “I shall do a 
fine job/’ he whispered, “I shall never 
stop rubbing until the music stops.” 
And this very thing he did. He closed 
his eyes tight shut, and rubbed and 
rubbed for more than an hour. Then 
the music stopped, of a sudden, and how 
fortunate that it did. The hard rub¬ 
bing Paul gave the shoe heated it, and 
the heat caused it to shrivel up and 
grow very, very tiny; so tiny that even 
a family of mice could not live in it. It 


THE SHOE-HOME 


ii5 

was so tiny that one little mouse might 
possibly live there, but not two mice. 
And it was polished so beautifully that 
it had changed to glass, and it glittered 
in the sunlight like a diamond. 

Paul saw what he had done, and he 
became frightened, and wondered what 
the old woman would say about his ruin¬ 
ing her shoe-home. She could never 
hope to live in this dainty glass slipper! 

But the old woman, when she re¬ 
turned, was not the least angered at the 
way in which things had turned out. 
She said, “Well, what do I care? I 
saw a pretty little cottage down the 
road, and I bought it. So I shall live 
there, and you, Paul, may keep the glass 
slipper which was once my leather shoe- 
home/’ 

Paul was very much relieved, and he 


n6 THE SHOE-HOME 


tucked the tiny glass slipper into the 
pocket of his nightie, and ran into the 
other picture—the picture of the mag¬ 
nificent castle. 


CHAPTER XI 


CINDERELLA’S SLIPPERS 

P AUL crept through the castle 
grounds until he came to a wind¬ 
ing pathway which led up to one 
of the castle’s vast doorways. 

The pathway was covered with some¬ 
thing very black, and Paul touched this 
covering with his bare toes. “Ugh!” 
he cried, “I shall not walk there. The 
pathway is sticky and clings to my foot 
like wet clay.” 

He stole behind a bush and threw 
himself upon the ground, listening to 
the music and voices coming from the 
castle. He wished that he were a fine 
grand person dressed in velvet and 


n8 CINDERELLA’S SLIPPERS 


satin; then he would join the happy 
throng of merrymakers, and be given a 
hearty welcome. He would dance with 
the maidens and he would chat with the 
men and he would eat his fill of sweet¬ 
meats. However, since his white 
nightie was not a suit of satin and vel¬ 
vet, he contented himself with wishing, 
and was glad that he was in so beautiful 
a picture as this. 

Suddenly the great door at the end of 
the black pathway opened, and a beauti¬ 
ful maiden appeared. She crept down 
the marble steps, and, looking neither 
to the right nor left, she flew like a deer 
through the tall grasses which grew at 
the side of the sticky black path. Her 
hair was golden and her gown was sil¬ 
ver, and she wore glass slippers upon 
her feet. And as she sped past the bush 


CINDERELLA’S SLIPPERS 119 

behind which Paul lay, one of her glass 
slippers dropped off and flew into the 
black path. 

But the maiden never paused to pick 
it up. She ran on, and was soon gone 
from sight. 

Paul crept on his hands and knees to 
where lay the glass slipper. He 
touched it with his fingers, and he was 
sure it was the twin to the glass slipper 
which was in his nightie pocket. In an¬ 
other moment he was comparing the 
two. He held the glass slipper, which 
was once the shoe-home of the old 
woman, beside the one the maiden had 
lost, and they were as like as two peas. 
Both were exactly the same size, the 
same shape, and the same appearance. 
There was not a whit of difference be¬ 
tween them. 


120 CINDERELLA’S SLIPPERS 


How very odd! 

At this moment a huge black crow lit 
in the grass beside the lost glass slipper, 
and he pecked at it and broke it into a 
thousand tiny fragments, which glit¬ 
tered in the sun like dew. The bird 
startled Paul so that he jumped to his 
feet and started to run, but in the next 
instant he found himself powerless to 
move. He had stepped right into the 
sticky black path! 

Suddenly the castle door again 
opened, and a handsome young prince 
dressed in black appeared. Upon his 
head was perched a hat with three white 
plumes, and he wore a sword at his side, 
and upon one of his fingers was a silver 
ring. Down the steps he dashed, cry¬ 
ing, “The beautiful maiden danced as 
my partner, and with no other have I 



The prince said to Paul, “You are standing where 
she should be standing.” Page 121. 











































CINDERELLA’S SLIPPERS 121 

danced. When the time came for her 
to leave, I would have followed her, but 
she ran too swiftly. But I knew this 
would happen, and I had the winding 
pathway spread with sticky black 
pitch.” 

And the prince said to Paul, “You 
are standing where she should be stand¬ 
ing; you are held fast where she should 
be held fast, for I had this pathway 
spread with pitch to catch her.” 

Then his gaze fell upon the glass 
slipper the boy held, and he gave a glad 
cry of surprise. He snatched the tiny 
slipper from the child’s hand, and said, 
“To-morrow I shall go to her father, 
and say to him, ‘My bride shall be no 
other than she whose foot this glass 
slipper fits.’ ” 

The prince pressed the slipper to his 


122 CINDERELLA’S SLIPPERS 

heart and went back into his castle with¬ 
out uttering another word. 

And into Paul’s mind came the image 
of the beautiful maiden. He was quite 
certain he had seen her before. 

Then he remembered. 

Her picture was in his book—the pre¬ 
cious book. There were letters printed 
beneath the picture, Paul recalled, and 
the letters flashed before his mind like 
this: 

C-I-N-D-E-R-E-L-L-A! 


CHAPTER XII 


THE TICK TOCK DAISIES 

“Hickory, dickory, dock, 

The mouse ran up the clock, 

The clock struck one, 

The mouse ran down; 

Hickory, dickory, dock.” 

P AUL stood very still, wondering 
who could be singing such beauti¬ 
ful poetic words. He smiled as 
though enchanted and held his hand to 
his ear, and listened for the voice to 
sing again. 

The voice was soon to sing again; but 
this time the words were different: 


124 TICK TOCK DAISIES 

“Paul, Paul, little boy! 

Like a golden daisy glows your smile! 
Come with me into the clock’s garden, 
And live with the daisies there.” 

Paul stared very hard before him, and 
what he saw was no doubt a picture. 
The picture showed an old-fashioned 
clock which hung upon a wall, and to 
the clock’s pendulum clung a pretty 
brown mouse. The pendulum was not 
moving back and forth as pendulums 
usually travel; it was not moving at all. 
Paul gazed upon the mouse and cried, 
“Mouse, little mouse, was it your voice 
I heard?” 

And the mouse replied, “Yes, ’twas 
my voice, to be sure. I am inviting you 
to come into the great clock’s garden of 
daisies. Many, many years ago this old 
clock stopped running, and, ever since, 


TICK TOCK DAISIES 125 

the beautiful yellow daisies have grown 
sadder and sadder. But, even so, they 
are wonderful to look upon.” 

“I will go into the clock’s garden,” 
answered Paul, “if we can carry away 
the sad thoughts of the daisies.” 

“We can try,” said the brown mouse, 
“so come with me.” 

And Paul climbed upon the pen¬ 
dulum of the clock and followed Mr. 
Mouse in among the old wooden wheels, 
and there he saw a sight that held him 
spellbound. There were tens of thou¬ 
sands of bright yellow daisies growing 
here, there, and all about. How charm¬ 
ingly they drooped their pretty heads— 
but how sadly! 

“To whom do the flowers belong?” 
questioned Paul. 

But before the brown mouse could 


126 TICK TOCK DAISIES 


make reply, a chiming, clanging voice 
cried out, “The golden daisies are mine. 
'Tis my garden you are in; what do you 
come for?” 

The visitors glanced behind them 
and saw two strange figures. Both 
figures were exactly alike, excepting 
that one was white and the other was 
black; and the black figure held a silver 
crown in his hand, whereas the hands of 
the white figure held nothing but their 
own fingers. 

The white figure bowed stiffly and 
said, “Again I ask—why do you come?” 

The brown mouse stepped boldly for¬ 
ward and cried, “Your yellow daisies 
are sad, sir, and we have come into your 
garden to run a race. A fine, swift race 
will surely make the posies forget their 


sorrows. 


TICK TOCK DAISIES 127 

The white figure studied for a mo¬ 
ment, and then he said, “My name is 
Noon, and in the clock I am known as 
White Twelve. The name of my twin 
brother, here, is Midnight; and in the 
clock he is known as Black Twelve.” 

“Let them run their race,” grumbled 
Midnight, nudging his brother. 

“Yes, run your race among our 
charming daisies,” said Noon, smiling 
as he uttered each word. “ ’Twill do 
’em good to watch you.” 

Without waiting for further talk, the 
brown mouse dashed away through the 
daisies as fast as his four feet would 
carry him. The tiny creature was more 
than anxious to entertain the flowers. 
But Paul took time to thank White 
Twelve and Black Twelve, and then 
he followed the mouse. As he passed 


128 TICK TOCK DAISIES 


among the daisies he could not help but 
linger, and he whispered to each, “Beau¬ 
tiful sad flower, I would love to stay and 
learn your name. 5 ’ 

But each daisy would only shake its 
golden head, and murmur, “Dear me! 
I have no name; nor have my sisters 
been named.” Then tears would course 
down the frail thing’s petals. 

Coming to a clump of daisies that 
grew almost in the center of the garden, 
Paul tarried to ask why such fair beings 
as they and their sisters had never been 
given a name. “Surely, you are worthy 
of a million names, each more charming 
than the other!” declared the boy. 

“ ’Tis the fault of Half-Past!” wept 
the clump of blooms. 

Well, Paul turned to follow the 
brown mouse, who by this time was far 


TICK TOCK DAISIES 129 

ahead. He ran as swiftly as he could 
for many many steps, and then this 
thought came to him, “The daisies are 
weeping as bitterly as ever; our race 
does not amuse them at all.” And the 
boy stood still—ended his race there 
on the spot. “Why run further? 
’Twill do no good.” 

So Paul stopped running and turned 
around—and he saw an exquisite figure, 
as dainty as a breeze, and all dressed 
in silver gray. “Turn your face away 
and do not look at me, for I have no 
silver crown upon my head!” cried the 
figure. 

“Pray, who are you?” asked Paul. 

“My name is Half-Past,” replied the 
figure, “and once I was the Princess of 
the Daisies until my two uncles, whose 
names are Noon and Midnight, took 


130 TICK TOCK DAISIES 

my silver crown from me because I could 
think of no names to give the daisies, 
which made them sad and caused them 
to weep instead of smile.” 

Paul looked kindly upon Half-Past 
and he whispered, “Why could you not 
think of some pretty names?” 

“Alas!” moaned the exquisite figure, 
“when the silver crown was upon my 
head I was too gay-hearted to think of 
names; and now, without my crown, I 
am too sad.” 

Paul said no more, but he began run¬ 
ning again. He ran on and on, gazing 
at the daisies as he ran, until he sud¬ 
denly tripped and fell to the ground. 
As he was struggling to his feet, he felt 
something soft brush against his cheek. 
7 Twas the petals of a daisy, he discov¬ 
ered, and he smiled at the forlorn gar- 


TICK TOCK DAISIES 131 

den-child, its touch was so friendly, and 
he murmured, ‘‘Pretty thing, what name 
shall I give you?” 

The flower’s eyes glowed and it re¬ 
plied, “I would love to be named Tick!” 

Then another daisy whispered in 
Paul’s ear, “What name will you give 
to me?” 

“What name would you like best to 
have?” questioned the boy. 

“Call me Tock!” was the eager an¬ 
swer. 

And, thereupon, Paul sprang to his 
feet and shouted at the top of his voice, 
“Daisies to my left, I give each of you 
the name of Tick!” 

“Tick! Tick! Tick!” sang these flow¬ 
ers. 

“Daisies to my right ,” cried Paul, “I 
give each of you the name of Tock!” 


132 TICK TOCK DAISIES 

Then the Tick daisies sang “Tick!” 
and the Tock daisies sang “Tock!”— 
and in another moment the wonderful 
garden of the clock was ringing with 
this chorus: “Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock, 
Tick, Tock!” And, keeping step to 
the happy voices, Paul set forth again 
to win the race which he was running 
with the brown mouse. Lighter than a 
feather was his heart, and brighter than 
two stars were his eyes. 

And as the boy was speeding through 
the flowers, he saw, in the distance, the 
twin brothers—Noon and Midnight; 
and they were bearing aloft a silver 
crown, and as they went they were de¬ 
claring, “The golden daisies are named, 
and they are happy and singing; and a 
silver crown shall be given to their 
Princess.” 


TICK TOCK DAISIES 


133 

. .Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock! 

.Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock! 

.Tick! 

.Tock! 





CHAPTER XIII 


PAUL MEETS THE FAIRY 

AGAIN 

W HAT would you do, little 
reader, should you suddenly 
open your eyes and find your¬ 
self inside a pie, with four and twenty 
blackbirds? 

You wouldn’t know what to do, 
would you? 

Well, that was just how Paul felt 
about the matter, when he found him¬ 
self in a pie with four and twenty black¬ 
birds; he did not know what to do. 

And when the pie was opened and set 
before the king, and the birds began to 


PAUL MEETS FAIRY 135 

sing, Paul was so confused that he al¬ 
most burst into tears. 



The Queen whispered to the King 


And as soon as the queen saw the child 
she whispered to the king who sat at the 
head of the royal table beside her, “It 











136 PAUL MEETS FAIRY 

seems to me I have seen that boy’s 
face before. Really, there is something 
very familiar about him. I am sure I 
have seen him.” 

And the king cried to Paul, “Little 
man, where has the good queen laid eyes 
on you before?” 

Paul did not reply. He drooped his 
head bashfully, and put his finger into 
his mouth and blushed like a red rose. 
Poor child, no wonder he blushed—who 
wouldn’t have turned crimson at finding 
himself dressed only in a nightgown, 
and sitting in a blackbird pie, before a 
magnificent royal family? 

While the boy was blushing, a black¬ 
bird suddenly pecked at his shoulder 
and whispered, “You should not act ill- 
at-ease while in the presence of a king 
and queen and lords and ladies! You 


PAUL MEETS FAIRY 137 

should make a bow, and smile your pret¬ 
tiest.” 

Paul immediately made a bow, and 
the smile that appeared on his lips was 
so warm and friendly that the queen 
cried, “What a pretty flower!” 

And the king and all the lords and 
ladies clapped their hands and mur¬ 
mured, “His smile glows like a golden 
daisy!” 

Then Paul lifted his eyes toward the 
queen, and he gave a great shout. He 
sprang out of the pie, clambered over 
the table, upsetting plates of cakes and 
buns and other goodies in his rush, until 
he stood before the queen. “You are 
the tiny lady of the long road!” he 
cried. “ ’Twas you, and no other, who 
gave me the beautiful book and the rub¬ 
ber ball!” 


138 PAUL MEETS FAIRY 

“What is all this?” gasped the king. 

“Be quiet!” whispered the queen to 
her husband, “I shall do the talking.” 
And thereupon the king looked very 
humble, and he said, “Yes, my dear; as 
usual you shall do the talking. I never 
saw such a woman for talking! You 
are almost as fond of talking as you are 
of dressing yourself in an odd fashion 
and wandering everywhere about the 
country.” 

After saying these words the king be¬ 
came quiet, and the queen turned to 
Paul and said, “Now, my dear, what 
were you saying to me?” 

“I am trying to thank you for the won¬ 
derful presents you gave me,” answered 
Paul. “Don’t you remember? I was 
standing by the side of the brown dirt 
road, and you came along and nodded 


PAUL MEETS FAIRY 139 

to me and told me something very nice 
—about my face being a garden of flow¬ 
ers. And you gave me a package in 
which I found a pictured book and a 
bouncing ball.” 

“Was I wearing my golden crown 
when I did all these things?” asked the 
queen, who seemed to be quite absent- 
minded. 

“No, there was no crown upon your 
head,” said Paul, “but you wore a hat 
in which there were plumes, and when 
you nodded, the plumes waved like 
roosters’ tails in the wind.” 

“Was I as beautiful as I am now?” 
asked the queen, who seemed to be a 
very modest lady. 

“Indeed, I thought you beautiful!” 
murmured Paul. 

“Ho, ho, ho!” roared the king, pound- 


HO PAUL MEETS FAIRY 

ing his fist upon the back of a fat duke, 
“my queen’s face is full of the most 
charming wrinkles!” 

“Be quiet!” shouted the king’s wife. 
“Be quiet, or I shall send you to bed!” 
At once the king became as silent 
as a mouse. He did not care to be sent 
away .to bed, and miss his share of the 
dainty blackbird pie. Oh, he became 
so very, very quiet that he looked like a 
statue, and he sounded like one, as 
well. 

After waiting a moment, the queen 
drew Paul down upon her lap and she 
whispered to him, “I really believe that 
I almost remember about giving a little 
boy, who smiled so charmingly, a book 
and a rubber ball. I shall ask the court 
wizard about the matter; he knows 
everything.” So she sent one of her 


PAUL MEETS FAIRY 141 

grand ladies to find the court wizard, 



Soon the lady returned with the wizard 


and soon the lady returned with the 
wizard. 













142 PAUL MEETS FAIRY 

The wizard was a tall, gloomy-look- 
ing man, and as Paul’s eyes fell upon 
him the boy gasped, “Oh, oh! The 
wizard is no other than my cross step¬ 
father!” But no one seemed to hear 
the child’s words, and after the man of 
magic had made a low bow to the queen 
he asked, “What do you wish of me?” 

The queen said, “Look upon Paul and 
tell me if I ever gave him a book and a 
rubber ball.” 

The wizard glanced at the boy, 
looked wise and thoughtful, and cried, 
“My lady, the great wisdom which is 

inside my head tells me that you gave 

• 

Paul a book. And the great wisdom 
which is inside my head also tells me 
that you gave him a rubber ball.” 

“Where is the rubber ball?” asked 
the queen. 


PAUL MEETS FAIRY 143 

“The ball is in the pocket of Paul’s 
white nightie,” answered the wizard. 

“Ah, yes,” said the queen, nodding 
and nodding and nodding. “And now 
tell me, please, where the book is.” 

“Paul is using the book for a pillow; 
the book rests against his round cheek,” 
quoth the gloomy-looking wizard. 

The queen looked sharply at Paul for 
a moment, and then she spoke very 
slowly, saying, “If the book is a pillow , 
then it should be lying upon a bed. 
And if Paul’s round cheek is resting 
against the book, then he, too, should be 
in the same bed.” 

“Yes, so he should!” cried all the 
lords and ladies seated about the table. 

“And so he is!” declared the wizard, 
dancing up and down. “Paul is in 
bed!” 


144 PAUL MEETS FAIRY 

And, as truly as I am telling you, 
little reader, Paul was no where else 
than in his bed! 

And he rubbed his eyes, opened them, 
sat upright and cried, “Where am I 4 ? 
Oh, dear me! I have been dreaming!” 

And the smile that bloomed in his 
face glowed like a golden daisy. 


THE END 






































